


Kuebiko

by alexacobblepot



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: 23 emotions, 23emotions, Gotham 2x09, Kuebiko, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:56:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5268692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexacobblepot/pseuds/alexacobblepot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuebiko: (n) A state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence.</p><p>With his life on the line and hitman after hitman being sent after him, Jim finds himself exhausted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kuebiko

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [23emotions](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/23emotions) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Kuebiko:  
> (n) A state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence.
> 
> I hope this is good enough! My first prompt claim ever. I worked hard on it.

Exhaustion crept through Jim as Lee told him about Flamingo killing the guard at Blackgate Prison and escaping. It was the kind of exhaustion that crept in like a fog and caused a person to shut down. A never-ending darkness brought on by the consistant strain of everything going on in his life, and the constant whisper of one word playing in his head like an echo. A soft whispering that made his body sag, made him want to shut down.

'Monster.'

He pushed the thought away as he told Lee he needed to go. He made up an excuse -- a headache. Jim could not deal with where the conversation would go, so he went home. How he got home, he did not know. All he knew was the feeling of drowsiness seeping through his body. He wobbled into his apartment, feeling like he had downed a few bottles of Whiskey. His unsteadiness had him worried that maybe one of the hitmen, Flamingo in particular, had managed to drug him. 

He shook the thought away. Not drugged. Tired. No, exhausted. He could barely keep his eyes open, but yet as he lay in bed, he could not sleep. Everything in the last few days flurried around him, drowning him. Oswald being shot, Barbara falling from that roof, the hitmen who had been assigned to take him out. He closed his eyes and just lay in bed. 

Jim wanted to sleep for days. He could call out. He had enough of sick days stocked up. Barnes would understand. But he did not have the strength to pick up his phone. Nothing sounded good to him except the sweet darkness sleep offered him. And soon, he found himself drifting off.

All the emotional pain faded away as he was lulled into a slumber wracked with guilt and nightmares.


End file.
